


Wolf in Irons

by LokiCobalt (orphan_account)



Series: Wolves of Midgard [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Assassin Harry, Assassins & Hitmen, Bartender Harry, Because of Reasons, Blood Drinking, Blue Eyed Wolves, Caffeine Addiction, Claiming Bites, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Doctor Harry, Elemental Magic, Espionage, Full Shift Werewolves, Harry and Tony in Afghanistan, Healer Remus, Hedwig and Buckbeak are Ospreys, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Motorcycle Repairman Sirius, Motorcycles, Muggle Life, Older Man/Younger Man, On the Run, Pack Bonding, Pack Cuddles, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Possessive Behavior, Psychic Wolves, Racist Language Toward Creatures, Secret Identity, Spies & Secret Agents, Steve Rogers is Harry's Grandfather... He just Doesn't Know It Yet, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Doesn't Like Being Handed Things, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tricksters, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Discrimination, Werewolf Harry, Werewolf Senses, Werewolf Sirius, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Werewolves with Magical Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:57:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LokiCobalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is turned into a werewolf by Remus third year, and they run away with Sirius. They run for years, hopping from country to country, on planes, trains, buses, and making it impossible to track them. The settle down in America in 1998, after being on the run for four years, with new identities and build lives for themselves. Harry meets Tony Stark, and embarks on a romantic journey that changes their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Are Wolves

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

**136KRONOS**

**Wolf in Irons**

**Prologue – We Are Wolves**

**~*~**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**June 6, 1994**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**~*~**

**_“It's not worth doing something unless someone, somewhere, would much rather you weren't doing it.”_ **

**_~ Terry Pratchett_ **

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Harry screams as the sharp teeth and claws slice through his flesh like his skin is made of butter, blood squirting out of the wounds like horror-movie-esque fountain of crimson. The werewolf tears his flesh with ease, claws breaking through his bones like dry pretzels, and Harry knows this is how he will die. At the claws of his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a man who knew his father loved his godfather, because he had forgotten to take his potion, and could not keep his inner wolf docile or unaffected by the moon. This is the last thing he will know. Teeth, claws, and the moon, so bright and mockingly silver in the cloudy sky, the taste of his own blood choking him as he jerks like a fish out of water, the life pouring out of him in pools and streams of sickening ruby red. His vision blurs, darkness fuzzing around the edges of everything, and he feels himself go numb to the fangs tearing chunks of his limbs away. The pain means nothing, and soon all his eyes can see are the yellow glowing eyes of the wolf, and the moon, bright and calling to him. Then the pain stops, and everything ends as everything goes silent and dark.

**\--**

The first thing he notices is the scent of leaves, the feel of cold stone on his belly, and the copper taste in his unbearably dry mouth. He takes a few deep breaths of air, his lungs burning from the agonizingly cold bite of the air, and pushes himself up to observe his surroundings. He is no longer in the forest behind Hogwarts; instead, he is sitting in town square of Hogsmead, surrounded by torn and bloodied leaves, the dim light of the moon still bathing him with its warm silvery touch. The sky is greyer than it was earlier, and he can easily tell it is almost time for the shops to start opening. He does not want to know what would happen in the morning if he were still sitting here, bloodied and naked on the cold stones. He stands shakily, limbs stiff and sore, leaving bloodied streaks across the white rocks, and briskly walks back to the Castle, keeping hidden in the shadows until he gets to his dorm. The fat lady takes one look at him, and opens without a word. He gives her a grateful look, and darts to the bathroom.

He is a horrible sight. His skin is drenched in blood, leaves plastered against his skin and sticking out of his ratted hair, and he has multiple open bleeding cuts all over. The majority of the damage done by the werewolf has already healed, only leaving thin silver scars near imperceptible on his pale skin, and he can already feel the wild burning pulsing under his skin. Like there is a beast waiting to tear through his skin and run free. It is soothing, in a way. It is easy to see he is no longer human, for no human could heal in hours or survive such an attack. His eyes are baggy and bloodshot, huge black circles under them, and his skin is pallid and sickly looking.

He quickly turns from the mirror and runs to the shower, and turns on the water as hot as it can go. He steps under, ignoring the biting pain the scorching water brings as it pours down over him. The events of the night overtake him as the painful memories come back, and he falls to the ground, sobbing and struggling to breathe. He only just found a family, and now he might lose them because of the backwards laws of the ministry. They will kill him. After all, the savior of the wizarding world cannot be a filthy werewolf. He does not know how long he sits there, weeping uncontrollably, but eventually he forces the tears and panic back and gets back to his feet. He quickly washes himself off, scrubbing so hard he thinks his skin should bleed, until he cannot smell the wild forest scent over the sickeningly sweet overbearing citrus of the soap, then turns off the water and summons his bathrobe to himself. He sulks back to the third year boy’s dorm, and glances at his schoolmates already in various states of undress, ignoring the water dripping pools onto the floor by his feet.

“Hello.” He yawns, walking stiffly back to his bed and drawing the curtains so he can dress in peace.

“Harry, mate, you look terrible.” Dean gasps, his voice horrified. Harry can almost picture his face in his mind and the darker side of him takes no small amount of pleasure at their worry and terror.

“I think I’m coming down with something.” He lies, pointedly ignoring the sarcastic continuation of that sentence, begging to be let off his tongue. “I’ll go to Madam Pomfrey before breakfast. I am feeling kind of nauseous.”

“Thought you were already in there.” Seamus points out. “We were told you, Hermione, and Ron were all in the hospital wing. Resting.”

“I was, but I prefer using my own soap, so I snuck out.” He makes up, almost wanting to hit himself for his oversight. He doesn’t mention that the bay leave soap and warm water in the infirmary are laced with calming draughts. “I don’t like the nasty smelling crap in the showers of the hospital wing. I’m fine, really.”

The other boys accept his lie easily and quickly get dressed, leaving with well wishes and leaving him in peace. He swiftly gets dressed, ignoring that he is clearly not dressed for school, and runs down to see Madam Pomfrey. Remus is there, and he gives Harry a weak smile, as if apologizing for whatever happened last night. He has no idea that he brutally attacked Harry when he went to find Hermione’s wand, which she accidentally dropped while trying to get back to the Hospital wing while Sirius escaped. Harry wonders if he can still taste his blood, or if the shift has taken its toll, and he cannot focus on anything but the pain.

Madam Pomfrey glares at him as Hermione and Ron both shoot him disapproving looks. Hermione does not know he left for her wand, and Ron’s disapproval is cut through with disappointment. He only disapproves because he got hurt and Harry apparently would rather play the hero in secret than spend time with his injured friends. He allows himself to be pushed into a bed beside a tired and kind Remus, ignoring her lecture about getting out of bed in his weak state, and lays his head back on the soft goose feather pillow. Hermione and Ron go back to their conversation, and their hushed tones do nothing to prevent him from hearing them insult his recklessness. Remus winces in sympathy, not realizing he can hear them quite yet, and offers him a chocolate bar as Harry angrily draws his curtains closed, not wanting to look at either of his friends. He cannot believe they would be so cruel. How can they think of him as a reckless media hound? He takes the chocolate and the moment his fingers brush against Remus’s, the elder werewolves eyes become burning sunflower-yellow and he growls lowly. Harry tips back his head in an act of submission, and the gold leaves Remus’s eyes, horror overtaking his world-weary face. He waves his wand in a familiar way, casting a few silencing spells muttered under his breath.

“You’re a werewolf.” He states, unhelpfully since Harry is very much aware of what he is by now. However, there is such horror in his voice that it makes Harry cringe. “You are a werewolf! What have I done? I am as bad as Greyback! I should just kill myself.” He says woe stricken, panic and self-loathing clouding all judgment.

Harry growls at that suggestion and Remus’s eyes widen. “I don’t know who this Greyback Wolf is, but you are nothing like him.” Harry snarls. “Don’t you ever say such a thing about yourself. You are a strong, brave, intelligent man, and I never want to hear you say anything bad about yourself. Ever! As for you biting me last night, that is my fault. I was the idiot who ran into the woods on a full moon, knowing there was a werewolf on the run. I knew there was a chance of being bitten, and I did not care! I would have asked you to turn me when I turned seventeen anyways.”

Remus is silent for a little bit, then he sighs dejectedly, resigned to the stubbornness of his honorary godson. “You would resign yourself to a life of hatred and prejudice? You would curse yourself to give me a pack.””

“Gladly. You did not bite me by choice, not yours or mine, but I refuse to hate what I have become. I am not Hermione, but that doesn’t mean I am not clever. I knew it was a possibility the first time you missed class on a full moon, I only needed you to confirm it.” He says, adamantly.

“But why would you want this curse?” Remus whispers. “Why would you wish to become a monster?”

“My relatives are not the nicest people.” Harry says softly. “They have abused me, neglected me, and treated me like shit since the moment I came into their lives. I did not know my name until I started school, because they only ever called me boy and freak. All I have ever wanted was a family. When I found out that you knew my father, at first I was angry. I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t tell me, but at the same time I had a feeling that maybe you couldn’t tell me. Discovering your lycanthropy last night did nothing to make me want to be in your family less, in fact it only made me wish to be a part of your pack.” Harry pauses. “I only wish you will say it is okay for me to come with you when you leave. You, me, Sirius, we could live somewhere else. Get new identities. I need you and Siri, you are my only family. My Pack.  I don’t even know anything about you two, but I cannot make it without you. I cannot live in this backwards country while the Anti-werewolf laws are in place. They would kill me. They would kill you. We could run. Just the three of us. You can teach me all I need to know. So please, promise you will take me with you guys. Please?”

“How do you know I am leaving?” Remus questions.

“I am not an idiot.” Harry finds himself growling. He struggles to keep the snarling from his voice as he pushes on. “I know that Snape hates you, possibly for the same reason he hates my father and me, and he is not a very mature man when he is angry. I have no doubt that Snape will reveal to the school at large that you are a Werewolf.

“Sirius is waiting for me.” Remus admits softly, sighing in defeat. “Just outside of Hogwarts. We were already planning on heading to Gringotts to sort out some things, and then we were going to run anyways. Siri is going to kill me, both for biting you and not telling him I am bringing you, but yes. I will take you with us. You were right, Severus just revealed that I am a werewolf over breakfast anyways, and I was planning to leave early today, in a few hours. Do you have anything you need?”

“Just Hedwig and a few other things.” Harry nods. “Dad’s invisibility cloak. I won’t take long.”

“Get them.” The elder werewolf commands. “Meet me at the carriage in front of the school in ten minutes. If you are late, I will not be able to take you. Not even one minute late, Harry. Dumbledore would kill me, and he would kill you, should he realize. I have to grab my things. Go!”

Harry nods gleefully, gives the wolf a brief hug, and then runs out of the hospital wing, ignoring his friends and Madam Pomfrey’s yelling. He takes the stairs two at a time, arriving at the Gryffindor common rooms out of breath, and gasps the password. He breaks his wand, knowing they can use it to track him, and sets it on his bed. It didn’t feel right anymore, the phoenix and holly wand, and every second it was in his hand felt wrong. He only feels a small amount of sadness at letting it go. He packs his cloak, the photo album of his parents, Hermione’s Time-Turner since he nicked it before leaving so he could do so without her knowing, fat lot of good that did, and his firebolt into a bag with an expansion charm, and then tucks the bag into his pocket.

“Hedwig, I am going away for a while.” He says. “Carrying a round a great white owl such as yourself is going to get me noticed.” The owl lets out a soft hoot, then changes before his eyes. Harry stares open mouthed at his bird as she changes forms. “Okay, you’re an osprey now. Cool. Cool. As long as you’re happy, girl.” Hedwig screeches and nuzzles his cheek. “You know, an osprey is not any less inconspicuous than an Owl, I’m just saying, but at least no one will recognize you as my owl and realize who I am.” Harry shrinks down her cage and puts it in his pocket as well.

He runs back down to the front of the school under his invisibility cloak, Hedwig flying gracefully in front of him under a notice-me-not spell, and gets there just as the clock chimes Seven, showing he is four minutes early. Harry climbs into the hooded carriage, drawing the curtains so he cannot be seen, and lies back on the soft velvet to wait. Hedwig nuzzles his cheek lovingly as he pets her dark brown and white feathers.

He does not know when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knows he is being shaken awake by his smiling Godfather, Remus giving him a fond look over his shoulder. He climbs out of the carriage, gives both of the men tight hugs, and then pays the man at the reigns to keep silent. He takes off with a wish of good luck, leaving Harry in the care of a werewolf and convict, and Harry grins.

He is thirteen years old, nearly fourteen, and now he is free for the first time in his life.

**\--**

The train ride from Hogsmead to Diagon alley is uneventful. They are not noticed; wearing glamour charms that make them look like a bunch of fat purebloods, with a Hippogriff as a pet. There are stranger things. Remus and Sirius tell him what he will need to talk to the goblins about, the things he will need to ask for, and tell him to choose a name for himself. He spends the majority of the twelve hour ride in silence, picking out a name and sucking on blood pops. They are surprisingly good, but that may be because of his wolfish nature. They step into the bank after setting Buckbeak up in a stable with Hedwig nearby, dispelling their disguises at once. The goblins take one look at the group, and they are immediately rushed to a room in the back, with four separate goblins sitting there.

“I am Account Manager Kaber, I represent the Black Estate.” One introduces himself, getting strait to the point. “The goblin to my right is Account Manager Orcan, representing the Lupin Estate. To my immediate left is Account Manager Griphook, representing the Potter Estate, and to his left is Ballik representing the Potter Estate as well. Mister Black, I was unaware we would be setting up records for Young Master Potter as well as Mister Lupin. Should we be preparing two more sets of documents?”

“As was I.” Sirius says cheerfully. “I only found out last night that I would have Remus with me, and I learned Harry would be joining our little group this morning. Will it cause any problems?”

“We shall need to know why Mister Potter is leaving with you.” The goblin known as Orcan states stiffly.

“I was bitten by a werewolf last night.” Harry admits calmly, and the shocked looks he receives are priceless. “I need to get out of Britain before people find out. I snapped my wand and I ran. I have no clue what I am supposed to do.”

Griphook is the next to speak. “We will have to run some diagnostics to see how the werewolf infection is working with your magic, to be able to sense weather you will have magic when the infection finishes spreading, or if you will be without magic which is most common. There is also the chance that your magic will try to fight the infection, but the wolf gene is a lot like goblin-made steel, and it will draw all power to itself to make the gene stronger. We will need to see if there is any damage needing fixed, and what special abilities you will gain. We only know you will have special abilities because your Lycan eyes are blue, meaning you have accepted the wolf inside you.”

Harry nods. “How do we run these tests? Is it a potion, a spell, or do I have to sacrifice a virgin, because I am good with all but the last one?”

“If you would come with me, it will take but a moment.” Harry follows Griphook out the door.

**\--**

It turns out to be a combination of spells and potions. The goblin, who had been the very first to bring him down to his vault at eleven, has him strip down completely and get into a bathtub full of odd rainbow sands, and then dumps in a few multi-colored potions. The water is extremely hot, but it is soothing nonetheless. The goblin casts a long list of spells on him as he rests in the piles of silver bubbles floating on purple-black licorice scented water. He is handed a couple other potions, an orange one that tastes like ash, and a blue one that tastes like strawberries, and then the goblin nods and tells him he can get out.

“So, what’s the verdict Account Manager Griphook?” He asks politely, as he towels himself off.

“Well, starting with the bad news, you show signs of physical abuse and neglect dating back nearly twelve years.” Harry winces as Griphook continues. “You’re magic has channeling spells on it, causing it to spend most of your energy on creating a shield around a small sliver of the dark Lord’s power, which is connected to your scar. Various blocks and compulsions are lessening your remaining magic. The numerous scars all over your body should have healed when your lycanthrope genes started taking over, but I suspect the wolf who turned you did too much damage. It is a miracle you lived long enough to reach schooling age, and should have been impossible for you to survive the werewolf attack.”

Harry shivers. Griphook shoots him a slightly forced sympathetic look and continues. “There are numerous potions and spells of concerning nature cast upon you. Someone wanted you to be docile and compliant. There are various compulsions, memory charms, and other spells that have been renewed and reinforced over the years. Quite frankly, Mister Potter, you should be a mindless drooling shell in St. Mungo’s right now, and it is a testament to how powerful you are that you do not have permanent brain damage.”

“And, the good news?” Harry asks.

“Your werewolf genes are stealing the power feeding these spells and potions, and cancelling out the effects.” Griphook says. “This includes all the power from the shard of the Dark Lord’s soul which resides in your scar. It will take time, a few years at most, but your wolf will constantly drain all of Voldemort’s power and give it to you. The wolf that bit you inadvertently helped you destroy the dark lord and all chances he could possibly have at returning. His power will become yours, but it is tainted and it will change you. It will not make you cruel or evil, but it will make you darker than you already are.” The goblin ignores Harry’s jaded muttering and continues.

“Now, you will have magic in your wolf form. Your eyesight will heal, your senses will heighten, and over the next few years, all the physical abuse will heal. You will have scars, those are unavoidable, but you will be a healthy young man by at worst sixteen.” The goblin smiles. “Now let’s see about those documents, shall we?”

**\--**

“Very well, Young Master, what can we do for you?” Ballik asks, after Harry is finished explaining the situation to them.

“What I want is simple.” Harry says. “I want you to empty every vault under my jurisdiction. All goblin made artifacts can go to you freely, if you are willing to do this without anyone being notified. I wish to be legally adopted by Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, and I want a new identity forged, with all the paperwork to prove my alias real to even the highest authorities. These documents will claim me as Hazan Wolfram Grimm, born October 31 of 1980, and I will have the proper documents to prove I was adopted by Remus and Sirius, under the alias’s they choose.” Harry smirks at the eye roll his chosen middle name earns him.

“If you would explain why you chose that name and birthdate, please?” Kaber asks.

“Hazan is Turkish for autumn.” Harry says. “I have always loved the season. Alternatively, it is also close enough to Harry that if Sirius or Remus calls me by my given name, it can be explained as a nickname. As for Wolfram, I chose that name for the amusement of having a middle name that describes me very well. Wolfram means wolf raven. Grimm was chosen by Sirius in acknowledgement to his animagus form.” Harry pauses. “I wanted something to connect me to my parents, something easy to remember, and the day of their deaths seemed as good a date as any.”

Sirius grins as the goblins take notes. “My forms will read Sterling Orion Grimm, Born August 23, 1959.”

“And mine will read Roman Lupus Grimm, formerly Mavros. Therefore, Birth certificates will say Mavros. My new birthdate will be April 10, 1960.” Remus says. They nod and write down the names.

“If you two could explain your choices as well?” Ballik asks.

Remus goes first. “In the myths surrounding my name, Romulus, brother of Remus, creates the Roman empire under his name. I have also been told Roman has started to become a popular name in some parts. Lupus is my inside joke, a nod to my lycanthrope. Mavros is Greek for Black, which is my way of keeping Sirius’s last name. My birthdate is March 10th, so I only changed it by a month.”

“I chose Sterling because I have always liked the name, and it is close enough to Siri that if one of those two messes up I can say it is my nickname.” Sirius explains. “I wasn’t willing to change my middle name. My birthday is two months and six days earlier than my real birthday. I threw darts at a calendar.”

Harry laughs. Remus rolls his eyes.

“Now, what do we say about your birth parents in your false records?” Orcan questions.

“Doctor Jimmy Nikolai Grimm, older twin brother of Sterling, married to Lilith Hydrangea Carter, Daughter of Margret Carter.” Harry says. “We discussed that one on the train ride. Mom was apparently actually related, but kidnapped from the hospital. She was lost, and found in foster care, adopted by the Evans. Now, no one else knows this, they all think she was born an Evans. My mother found all this out and managed to manipulate the records, and got in contact with her mom, Peggy. She was supposed to meet her on November 5th, but she had to go into hiding. Peggy was aware of my mother’s pregnancy, as I had not been born yet and was only a few months along when they contacted each other, but unaware of her husband or how far along she was. The y never got to meet each other. My father died in a plane crash two years after I was born, my mother died in childbirth. No other living relatives on either side. Peggy would be my only living relative on my mother’s side. My grandfather is a very distinguished hero in World War two. He had no clue about the pregnancy, and they only slept together once, which was quite a scandal since everyone assumed they hadn’t even kissed yet and they were not married, before he crashed the plane he was on into the Arctic Ocean for some reason. War tech the enemy had, I think. His name was Steven Grant Rogers. This is all my mother could find out.”

“It makes our job significantly easier, knowing you have an actual family tree we can add to.” Griphook says. “What else do you need today.”

“I want bank statements, portfolios, legal papers, and I want every single Knut counted and withdrawn. If any money or property has been stolen, I want it returned tri-fold.” Harry plows on. “I want all my properties sold. You can keep twenty percent of the profits. All artifacts, aside from the goblin made ones, are to be put into my account. I want a new account opened in the Caymans Gringotts Bank under my new name. I want passports to every country on this planet, as well as a plane ticket for each of us to anywhere. I do not care. We will be falling off the grid for a few years, to make sure to throw everyone off our tracks. I will send you a letter when we finally settle, and in exchange, I will allow you fifteen percent of my profits if you manage my money prosperously. I will be withdrawing just enough money for us to move around constantly for the next three years or so. I shall also require a license to carry exotic birds, and the proper documents so I can go to school online, and then college. Are we clear so far?”

“Crystal.” One says. Sirius beams with pride, happy he taught Harry well.

“Excellent.” Harry smiles. “I believe that is all I need.”

There is some talk of confirmations, signing of some official documents, and then the three are leaving the banks with briefcases full of official documents, ready to board a plane to nowhere. Ready to disappear. They head back to the stables, where Buckbeak and Hedwig both wait in their new magically transformed states as ospreys. Harry boards the plane first class as Quinn Baker, with his Uncles Donny and Lawrence, and they head to Nebraska, excited and exhausted, with no cares for the world.

Little do they know, the entirety of Hogwarts castle is in a panic looking for the boy-who-lived, savior of the wizarding world.

**\--**

**AN: Well Hello my freaky darlings! I am finally actually finished with chapter one! No more edits needed! I will have Chapter two updated soon enough! Love you all! Kronos**


	2. Chapter One - Hello Moon

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

**136KRONOS**

**Wolf in Irons**

**Chapter 01 – Hello Moon**

**~*~**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**July 4, 1998**

**Manhattan, New York, United States of America**

**~*~**

**_I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but they whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves their conduct, will pursue their principles unto death._ **

**_~ Leonardo da Vinci_ **

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

Four years.

For four long years Harry, Sirius, and Remus traveled the world. They had been on boats, planes, trains, and even on foot the entire time, never staying in one place for more than a few hours. They were untraceable, by magical and muggle means. Harry only took two years to finish all the schooling he needed, all the schooling he could do online. Hiring the world’s best tutors and forcing them to come with them for a couple years was a breeze. They did not ask questions so long as they could see the world and walk away with boatloads of cash. He is almost eighteen years old now, and a lot has changed.

Harry was once a scrawny malnourished kid with knobby knees and messy hair, his only good feature being brilliant green eyes hidden behind horrible glasses. Now he is tall and rail thin, his body all lean muscle and no fat. He is healthy, the healing powers of his werewolf genes and many potions combating the years of abuse he endured. His skin is wintery pale, like porcelain or glossy glass, his face thin with high-defined cheekbones. His hair is still messy, standing on end in a crazy sort of way that makes him look like a mad-scientist. The bolt of pure silver white towards the front of his shoulder-length blue-black hair certainly does not help in that respect. Neither does Sirius’s annoying habit of calling him Doctor Frankenstein. His eyes are different too, and they are the crowning glory of his Mad-scientist look.

The goblins were not kidding when they said he would devour Voldemort’s power, and that it would change him. He has no doubts that his cheekbones are clearly Tom Riddle’s, and the height considering everyone in his family was somewhat short. His eyes are actually quite beautiful. They are a brighter shade of green, with just the smallest hint of silver, with a ring of black around the edges of his irises. In a spiked star starting at his pupils and cutting through the brilliant green, there is a deep maroon-red flowering out in an eerie sort of way. They moved his lightning bolt scar to behind his left ear so it couldn’t be used to identify him, and scrambled all his other scars around just in case. The worst was the long scar from his uncle whipping him with his belt, buckle side down, which ended up being moved to his right forearm, starting at his palm and ending in the crook of his elbow.

Sirius and Remus have changed quite a lot as well. Sirius’s hair is to his waist by now, his silver eyes sparkling with mirth and flirtatious intent. He has filled out from his emancipated self of four years prior, and with the addition of the classy suits and healthier skin, hair, and body, he cuts a dashing figure. No one would be able to imagine this man as Sirius Black. Remus himself has grown healthier ever since he stopped poisoning himself with the wolf’s bane potion, and finally took Sirius as a mate, changing him to a werewolf as well. His eyes are permanently golden like his wolf’s, showing proof that his wolf was poisoned. The sunflower yellow will never leave his eyes, for he poisoned himself for far too long. Having a pack does wonders for his alpha, as does wearing better clothes. Remus is a handsome man with his styled back bronze hair and topaz eyes, and having a pack makes him shine.

The three of them step out of the airplane, graceful and beautiful, and the whole airport stares. Harry tries not to self-consciously shift or run back into the plane. He can never get used to people staring, even though he is aware of how he looks. He cannot stop moving like a predator, he has a face like an angel, but the chaotic looks of a mad scientist. He is dressed in an expensive designers black suit, a black dragon hide vest, with boots and gloves to match, a pressed crimson shirt with black tie. He has two ospreys perched regally on his left arm, a pair of black and white katanas strapped to his belt, and a long dark grey trench coat. His godfather is wearing a three-piece slim fitted grey suit and blue shirt, the perfect match to the darker grey of his alpha’s suit. They both have guns strapped to their sides. They look dangerous, but they also look like eccentric movie stars of some sort.

Today is a bust day, being Independence Day and all, and the crowds are making Harry’s instincts go haywire. He resists the urge to draw his swords and massacre every living breathing person who so much as stares at him and makes a beeline to the Starbucks at the back of the airport, leaving his adopted parents to have their fun. Slaughtering a couple thousand people after just getting off a plane from Budapest is not a good idea, nor is it the way he wants to start his new life in Manhattan. He really does not want to move again.

He orders a black coffee with heavy cream, and sits down at one of the open tables, propping open his laptop with a smile. He loves muggle technology, and Stark tech is the best. He owns one of only three Stark Laptops, having won it in a casino in Las Vegas from some drunk with a horrible poker face and more cash than brains. The brand new laptop is one of Stark’s prototypes, one belonging to Tony Stark himself, another to a woman named Patricia Whitmore, and the one he now owns, formerly belonging to a man named James Carson. He sends product reports to the man weekly, and in exchange gets butt-loads of cash and a shiny laptop that makes many people jealous of him.

Harry stays typing on the laptop for a good three hours before he is interrupted.

“So, you must be James Carson’s replacement.” Harry looks up to see a smiling man with brunette hair and chocolate eyes, sparkling with the same mirth and sexual energy his godfather’s often do. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and his wolf stirs happily as the scent of expensive scotch, electricity, coffee, and motor oil fills his nose. He has to resist launching at the man and shoving his tongue down his throat. _Speak of the devil._ He thinks. Tony Stark sits down in the open chair without asking. “I’m Tony Stark, but you can call me anything you’d like if you come to my mansion with me tonight.”

Harry snorts at the senseless cliché pickup line, and then gives the gorgeous genius inventor a flirtatious smile and wink. “Not even gonna ask me to dance first?” He says in mock offence, and then smirks. “I’m a classy gal, Mr. Stark. I don’t put out until after the first date.” That is not true, he does not put out at all. Being on the run makes loosing ones virginity very hard. Not to mention werewolves only ever want to sleep with their mates. “Besides, just because I emailed you to say I won this lovely piece of technology in a poker game, doesn’t mean I’m legal. Fake IDs are wonderful things. I’m seventeen until the end of October.” He almost smacks himself for telling the man the truth. At least he managed to remember his fake birthdate though.

“Damn.” Stark laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be in jail for corrupting a minor. What’s your name anyways?”

“Hazan Grimm.” Harry shakes his hand.

“Hazan?” Tony grins. “Turkish, right? I honestly thought you were British from that accent of yours. It’s a bit hard to tell though, since it sounds a bit strange for a Brit.”

“I am British.” He smirks again. “My father had a Turkish grandfather of the same name. As for my accent, I travel a lot. I just moved here today, actually, with my two fathers.”

“Two?” Tony gives him an incredulous look.

“Well yeah.” Harry shrugs. At Tony’s reassuring look of curiosity, Harry finds himself spilling the abridged version of his life. “I’m an orphan. Sterling is my uncle, but he adopted me as his own. It’s pretty cool, I never really knew either of my parents. My mom died in childbirth, and my father was killed in a plane accident when I was just a tot. Sterling didn’t really know about me, so I was put into a foster home. They were not the nicest people, and they abused and neglected me for years. A little over four years ago, Sterling found out about me, and he and Roman, his husband and my godfather amusingly enough, adopted me.”

“My father wasn’t very nice either.” Tony sighs, and Harry knows he is not lying. “He didn’t care about me at all, and my mother was always too busy with her galas to take care of me. It was pretty much just Jarvis, my butler, and me until he died when I was fifteen. I was always trying to impress him, but he was too obsessed with Steve Rogers, Captain Bloody America, to even talk to me. I think he told me he loved me twice in the entire seventeen years I knew him.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry pats his hand soothingly.

“It’s not your fault.” The man shrugs.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry that your father’s obsession with my grandfather caused you pain.” Tony gives him a shocked look, but Harry continues. “If I could go back and help somehow I would, but even my time-turner doesn’t allow me to go back that far.”

Tony looks like he’s about to respond, but a fiery red haired woman comes marching up and starts dragging him away, yelling about a press conference. “Bye Hazan!” he says. “We should talk again soon! Ow, Pepper! Stop pulling my hair. I’m coming!”

Harry gives the defeated celebrity a mock salute and grins. “Bye Tony! Enjoy your Press conference!” The man gives him a haunted look, then hurries after the red-haired woman

Two minutes later, he joins his fathers, both of which smell of sex and mini airport bathroom soap bars. He gives them both a look of disbelief, then sighs and packs his laptop.

“So, who’s the sexy Adonis you were just speaking with, Hazan?” Sirius asks, grinning unabashedly, the name slipping easily off his tongue in a way Harry still has not gotten used to. He has only been Hazan officially for two days, and while his fathers can easily switch their names, Harry is having more difficulty. “I saw the way he was looking at you. Why the hell aren’t you inviting him back to a hotel room, or our new manor, for a glorious night of passionate sex?”

“Sterling!” Remus whacks the back of his head.

“Awe, come on Roman.” He giggles. “You were wondering too!”

“His name is Tony.” Harry responds, ignoring them. “And, as for why I am not in his mansion like he offered, I kind of don’t want to have him thrown in jail for sleeping with a minor, and I also know he has a reputation. I don’t particularly want to lose my virginity to a man I will only see once.”

“You are aware your birthday is in twenty-seven days right?” Sirius snickers.

“My real birthday, yes. My fake birthday is in three months, four if you count July since it is still the beginning.” Harry points out.

“But Pup, your wolf is clearly into him. I can tell.” Remus says softly. “He could be your mate.”

“If he is my mate, then I will see him when I am ready, and I will fall madly into his arms, and find a way to keep him forever.” Harry snaps. “Until such a day, this discussion is over.”

He ignores the knowing looks and the ache in his chest in favor of watching the fireworks until their limo arrives. They are not as pretty as he had hoped they would be.

**\--**

**Halloween 1998**

**\--**

A man knocks on the door three months after they finish moving into the Manor in New York and turns their world upside down. Harry answers the door to see a man wearing a government type suit, and a woman with auburn hair in a skintight leather outfit. He smiles and lets them in after realizing they are not trick-or-treaters, offering them pie and ice cream as he settles back down onto the couch and starts to open his birthday presents. He gets halfway through opening the first one when the woman starts.

“Quinn Baker.” Harry freezes, and so do his two parents. “George Tanner. James Atlas. Oliver Maids. Danny White. Caspian Horvath. Perry Otter. Luke Masters. Michael Nilsson. Rick Dixon. Harry Potter.”

“We could go on, but I rather think you have the point.” The man says. “This is Natasha Romanoff, and I am Agent Phil Coulson. We’re with The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“You’ve got to shorten that name.” Harry says slowly, choosing his words carefully and fingering his knives warily. “Not really easy to remember.”

“We get that a lot.” Agent Coulson smirks.

“So, let’s get to the point then, Agent. I assume your aren’t here to spout off my many alias’s or share my birthday pie.” Harry says coldly. “What is it you’re here for? I wasn’t aware traveling was a crime.”

“Traveling isn’t.” the agent returns. “But when you travel under different names, and can apparently change your appearance at will, you are bound to pick up notice. Not to mention you have plenty of money to throw around, and you completed schooling from grade six to twelve, along with some years in college, in only four years’ time.” The Agent smiles softly, nearly imperceptible through his stiff professional façade. “It is not your running that interests us, Mr. Grimm, despite it being what intrigued us about you at first. We are interested in your mind. You have managed to get PHD’s in Electrical Engineering, Neurosurgery, and Neuroscience. You have Mastery Degrees in Kinesiology, and Biomechanics. Bachelor’s Degrees in Linguistic Studies, and Psychoanalytic Studies. In addition to all of that, you have MD’s in Diagnostic Medicine, Pathology, Nephrology, and you are a renowned specialist in infectious diseases. You are one of the most brilliant men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and you are only eighteen years old. The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division could use a man of your skills. You could be a hero.”

“I’m done being a hero.” Harry snaps. Agent Coulson raises an eyebrow at the harsh tone, and Agent Romanoff fingers the knives hidden under her suit. “I got off that roller coaster head trip when I decided my life was more important than those who were supposed to be my friends. Four years, of never resting, always moving, so they could have no way of tracking me. Do you know how hard it was to go through school while I never stayed put for more than a few hours. I have seen everything this world has to offer, attempting to throw them off my trail. I came here to have peace. I am no hero, Agent Coulson. I never wanted to be one, and I never want to be one again. Case Closed.”

“Then you wouldn’t have to be.” Coulson shrugs. “We have plenty of things a man of your varying skills could do. One of our agents tailed you the entire time you were running and reported to us. You are a master of disguise, but Agent Barton is very good at his job. No matter what name you used, or what appearance you wore, you always had two ospreys in a silver cage, and the same tutors. We contacted them, and you paid a lot for them to keep their silence and travel the world with you. It took us giving each of your tutors double what you paid to get them to spill.”

“Remind me later to find them and pull their intestines out through their mouths.” Harry seethes at Remus, who nods and excuses himself so Harry can have some time alone. Sirius follows the suit, shooting him an encouraging look over his shoulder as the door closes.

“You would kill them for simply being human and taking the money?” Agent Romanoff gasps. Harry does not need to be a psychic or expert in human behavior to tell that she is not nearly as scandalized as she seems.

“Barton told us that you are a mutant.” Coulson says, and Harry raises an eyebrow. “Howard Stark may have founded The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, but you can be assured that we do not share his assessment of mutants. You would be welcomed full heartedly. You need not worry about that.”

Harry laughs. “And what makes you and Barton so convinced I am a mutant?”

“Are you telling me you turn into a black wolf at will because you, and your fathers, are werewolves?” Coulson gives him the stink eye, and Harry cackles with glee.

“Got it in one, Agent Coulson.” The agent raises his eyebrow at Harry’s mocking sarcastic tone. “Congratulations! Bravo! Really, a truly stunning display of intellect.” He rolls his own eyes, hiding the fact that he just blurted the truth to a complete stranger under a layer of false derision and jocularity. The agents give him matching looks of exasperation, but then the woman gives a slow surprised smile.

“He’s telling the truth.” She says smugly. Harry’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops open in shock. “You and I both owe Clint two-hundred bucks. He called it, and we both laughed at him. I am going to have to grovel for months.”

“No you won’t, Natasha.” Coulson rolls his eyes. “Clint loves you.”

“No, Clint loves you.” Romanoff says. “I’m a sister to him. I will have to grovel, and you will only have to drop your pants to the floor and he’ll forgive you for laughing at him.”

Coulson blushes at the insinuation, and Harry’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “I don’t suppose Clint would be the same person as Agent Barton, would he?” It isn’t really a question.

“That would be correct.” He confirms.

Harry nods, and then gets back on track. “I am sorry, but I don’t wish to work for you or S.H.E.I.L.D.” He ignores the curious looks his shortening of the name earns him. “I’m a free agent, and you and your people probably couldn’t pay for my services anyways. I have a club opening in a few months; you should bring that man of yours and come down for a drink. I think we are done here. Sterling and Roman will show you to the door.” With that, Harry stands and grabs his coat. He walks out the door, startling a few kids who had been brave enough to climb to the top of the hill and take some candy from the bowls on the front porch. He flashes them a fang-filled smile, eyes blue like his wolf’s, and walks away with the sickening yet strangely satisfying knowledge that one of the kids pissed their pants in fear.

**\--**

Harry does not know why he lets the brunette in her too tight sexy nurse costume and her mousy haired friend in a more covering pixie costume drag him down to the night club, but he’s glad he did. The club is an eerie sort of place with mahogany floors, plum curtains, and backlights that make the phosphorous paint glow brightly. He does not know why he lets himself be stripped down to just his black pants, boots, and the torn white ankle length trench coat Remus and Sirius bought him as a joke. Or even why he allows some of the girls to paint electric green vein lines all over his uncovered skin, and streak some neon white paint through his hair, making it stand out and even more crazy than natural. He orders himself an electric green drink from the bar that tastes like sour green apple and dragon fruit and downs it in seconds. The bartender looks impressed as he slides another one over. Harry downs half of it, and then goes to join the crowd.

**\--**

**AN: So here we are, my lovely readers! The end of chapter one… not as long as I wanted it to be… I may even add more to it. But for now, we are finished. Make sure to read the updates to chapter one. Love You all! Yes, I am weird, but m ad scientist Harry is what the muses wanted… as well as a meeting between our two lovers to start sooner. And yes, Harry is a bloody genius in the book, but that what the muses made me do! Also, did you see the random shipping moments. Did you? There was a subtle one, and a very obvious one. Also, a hint. Miss brunette nurse and her sandy haired pixie friend are very important characters. Okay! Lots of Love! Bye! ~Kronos**


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